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Theo keeps talking as I motion for them to come in. My dad bends and picks Theo up and heads into the family room, intently listening the entire time. Lennon gives my hand a squeeze as she walks past me.
She knows how much sharing custody hurts me. The fact he has to be shuffled back and forth is not what I had in mind. But Hannah and I are better off as co-parents and friends. In the end, I have to believe that our relationship will benefit my son more than if he had two parents who lived in the same house but were unhappy.
The four of us hang out in the family room and Theo shows my parents the latest Lego firetruck he’s been working on.
After a while, my dad and Lennon share a look and Lennon stands from the couch and walks over to Theo. “Hey, why don’t you show me the new Lego sets you’ve finished in your room?”
Whenever we finish a Lego set, we place it on display on one of the shelves in his room. While I’m sure Lennon has a mild interest in seeing what he’s been working on. I get the impression it’s a ruse to get my dad and me alone.
“Oh yeah, Glamma, I almost have the entire city. Dad said next are the boats.” He takes her hand and drags her out of the room.
Soon we hear Lennon and Theo’s feet on the stairs, him talking nonstop about the one Uncle Chase had to put together because Daddy’s friends knocked it over. The kid must have been spying because Chase did an incredible job on that one.
Getting that out of my head, I turn to my dad on the other end of the couch. “Good news or bad news?”
He chuckles. “We never can put one past you.”
“You’d always try though. So—good or bad?” A million scary things go through my head. Are they divorcing? No, they seem happy. Something with my brother and sister? No way is Lennon pregnant again.
They used to try—a lot. I remember when I was twelve, and they’d pretend my dad was helping Lennon find something in the garage when in reality, they were making out or messing around. One day I called them out on it. Or when Lennon missed putting some presents under the tree on Christmas morning and I found the bag in the garage a couple of weeks later, grabbing my scooter, she tried to tell me that Santa ate too many cookies, and he must’ve forgotten the presents go under the tree.
“Well… we’re hoping you’ll think it’s good news.” My dad has his serious face on. The one I’m used to seeing when he’s working on a deal.
“I’m listening.”
“Lennon and I are entering negotiations to purchase the Kingsmen. If all goes smoothly, we’ll be the owners by the time training camp starts.”
I blink and I blink again until my eyes remain wide open. I don’t know what I expected my dad to say, but it wasn’t that. “Wow. Congratulations, I guess?”
He stares at me, trying to judge my reaction. “Are you okay with this?”
I think about what my parents owning my team means for me and how it might change the way my teammates view me. “I guess… this means you guys will be my bosses.” I cringe.
My dad sighs. “Technically, yes, but you’ll get no special treatment from us, and we won’t interfere with whatever you’re doing on the field unless things really go to shit.”
I chuckle. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“Truth is, we’ve been looking at buying the team for a while. You being transferred here last year was surprising, causing Lennon and I to table the conversation. We didn’t want to interfere in your life. Then we got word Giles Hanover is still looking to sell, but we would never put pen to paper without talking to you first.”
I lean back on the couch, hands behind my head. “I appreciate it, Dad, but I wouldn’t stand in your way even if I wasn’t cool with it. You guys have done so much for me and Theo over the years—”
My dad quickly interrupts me. “That’s what parents do, Brady. You know that now yourself.”
He’s right. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for my little boy. I myself never wanted for anything growing up.
I nod. “I know. I guess I’m saying if you want to do this, you should. Realistically, I’m thirty-two. My days of playing football are numbered, whereas you could own the team for decades if you wanted. I won’t stand in the way of that.”
My dad stands and clamps me on the shoulder. “All right then. Wish us luck. Giles Hanover is a classAprick I don’t trust with an ounce of my life.” Then he grows serious. “Needless to say, you cannot tell anyone about this.”
“My lips are sealed.” The sound of footsteps pounding on the stairs causes me to call out, “Use the banister!”
My dad smirks. “He reminds me a lot of you.”
“So, I was a complete handful at his age?”
Theo and Mom join us in the family room.
“Dad! Glamma said she’ll take me to Legoland if I’m good for Mom this weekend.” His eyes are wide and full of excitement as he bounces up and down in front of me.
